I was recently asked why I do this work here.
Because I have faith.
And because I have hope that my words will reach enough people to awaken more people.
And because I have hope that my words and work will generate more income as I wait – yet again – for funding to focus on a new direction.
And because when I started this site 10 years ago – next month – I felt I was serving a lifelong purpose.
And let’s be f’ing honest here – I stop? That income goes away. And I cannot afford to lose one dollar at this point.
So I do what I do.
Until I am called in a new direction.
I just never thought I would become this exhausted and worn down. I used to be able to do more. Handle more. Help more. Today? I’m the one needing a fucking rescue.
💖
Victoria
This is toxic think. Simplistic. Does nothing to truly shift life or provide real healing.
I grew up watching Mr. Rogers. My dad could not stand him – thought he was gay – too feminine. I, however, loved Mr. Rogers. I saw a man who could be a man and be gentle, kind, soft-spoken – behaviors that were lacking in my own father (who still misspells my name to this day). He was on from 5-5:30 pm – a safe time for me before my father arrived home. Usually the show was over by the time he arrived from work, but now and then he would be early, and I would hear him comment to my mom. Today I see he was deeply insecure, as he could sense my attachment to this gentle man on television.
I still don’t understand why some MAGA call out people who make money off of the movement, but turn a blind eye to b.s. like this:
Many planes down. Q predict this?
Something in their drinking water? When we call out Israel, it is never the people – it’s the parasites inside the government.
EBS Comm. Another one.
Mechanic calling it out:
I feel like Charlton Heston when he was up on stage at the 2A rally, holding his gun, loudly affirming: “from my cold dead hands” – only we are holding up steak.
🤬
At least this happened:
And we KNOW “their” sporting events are involved in trafficking:
In today’s DUH file:
Will “they” ever stop?
And then (you cannot make this up), you have the Mormon Crickets. The little critters who show up and don’t leave until you listen to their sermon.
Not strange to anyone dealing with PTSD, trauma and does what she/he can to feel safe:
It’s hard being here, isn’t it? Like REALLY hard.
